To Walk a Mile
by jedikatie
Summary: An unfortunate accident with an alien device has unusal consequences for Trip and T'Pol...
1. Chapter 1

**To Walk a Mile…  
**By Jedikatie

**Rating:** PG13  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Enterprise or its characters. I wish I did… there certainly would have been a better ending than what we got.  
**Summary:** An unfortunate accident with an alien device has some unusual consequences for Trip and T'Pol.

**Author's Note:** Many, many thanks to Rigil Kent for betaing this story, and to Anti Drone for his wonderful NX-01 blueprints.  
**Author's Note 2:** Due to an extremely busy next couple of weeks at both of my jobs, I'm not sure when exactly the next chapter will be up. But I do have the ending written, I just have to get the stuff in between down... I _will_ finish this story, I promise.

**Day 1**

Images surrounded the soul as it drifted in the darkness… people and places that looked and sounded familiar but which it couldn't put a name to. It wasn't even certain of its own name at the moment. The sound of someone talking penetrated its silent musing, though the words made little sense to it, before the soul drifted off into oblivion again.

A few hours later, the soul again found itself aware of noises around it, and the images--_memories_--began to resolve themselves. The voice from before was speaking quietly a short distance away, the words still incomprehensible, but the sound was a soothing balm. Slowly the soul moved back towards the realm of consciousness, and the words began to resolve themselves in his ears. And suddenly he recalled his own name--_Trip, I'm called Trip--_and knew it was the captain speaking to someone… probably Phlox, if he had to hazard a guess, based on the familiar sounds of the menagerie off to his right.

He shifted slightly on the biobed, still feeling out of sorts, trying to piece together what exactly had happened to land him in Sickbay this time. Concentrating, he focused his attention on what the captain was saying, hoping for a clue. _"So you're telling me, Phlox, that there is nothing wrong with either of them?"_ he heard the captain ask in a puzzled voice.

_"That's correct, Captain. I have run a number of scans on both of them and can find nothing physically wrong with either of them to account for why they were found unconscious in that room. Have Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Sato had any luck in deciphering what precisely the device was for?"_

_"No luck yet. Hoshi says that the language on what appears to be the control panel is unlike anything else in the room."_

Trip frowned mentally to himself. The device. He had been examining it, while T'Pol took scans… there was an energy surge… a weird sort of sensation, almost like he was being torn apart, and then… darkness and waking up in sickbay. Perhaps the machine had overloaded from the surge and knocked the two of them out? That didn't sound right, though. He couldn't help but think that he was missing something. The smell coming from Phlox's little friends wasn't exactly helping his concentration any. He'd never realized just how much those creatures stank before. He wrinkled his nose up in distaste as another unpleasant odor came nearer to him.

_"Doc? I think she's starting to come around."_

Soft footsteps stopped next to the bed and he pictured Phlox standing there, examining the readings on the monitor above the beds. Slowly he cracked open his eyes, and winced as the bright lights beat into them, but squinted through the pain until he could open them fully. _Yep, sickbay. Maybe I ought to just move in here…_ he thought idly to himself as he saw Jon begin to smile at seeing him conscious.

"Good to have you awake, Commander. We were starting to get worried." Phlox cheerfully told him. "And you'll be glad to know, Captain, that it appears that our other patient will shortly be awake as well, if these readings are correct."

Jon's smile broadened at the news, and he briefly clapped his hand on Trip's shoulder. "Glad to have you awake. Do you remember anything about what happened?"

Trip opened his mouth to reply, but was distracted by a deep groan to his left. Turning his head slightly, he was brought up short when he saw the face of the other patient. _What the hell am I doin' over there when I'm here? And where exactly am I if that's me…_ A sinking feeling was developing in his stomach as he glanced down towards his body, while simultaneously trying to sit up for a better view. _Oh God… why do these things always happen to me?_ he thought as his eyes rolled up back into his head the moment that he realized that he was in T'Pol's body.

Mercifully, unconsciousness claimed him.

"I thought you said they were okay?" Archer demanded as he looked towards Phlox, as T'Pol fainted dead away before his eyes. "T'Pol? T'Pol, wake up," he shook her, hoping it would have some effect.

A weak voice responded from the next bed, "Yes, Captain?" He looked towards the other biobed and saw twin blue eyes squinting up at him.

"Trip, thank God. T'Pol's passed out again. What in the hell happened to the two of you?"

There was a prolonged pause, and a confused look crossed Trip's face before he responded, his eyebrow rising in an oh-so-familiar way. "Captain, why are you calling me 'Trip'? Are you feeling quite well?" A frown started to form as T'Pol realized that her voice sounded peculiar, but could not quite figure out what was wrong with it due to a splitting headache.

"Why wouldn't I call you Trip? We've been best friends for over 10 years." Archer asked, perplexed, and wondering just when his chief engineer managed to learn that eyebrow trick of T'Pol's.

"I believe the captain is in need of medical attention, Doctor. He seems to be unable to distinguish Mister Tucker from myself." she informed Phlox, who was busy running yet another series of scans on the so far unresisting engineer. Detecting the headache, he picked up a hypospray and gave her a painkiller.

"Now, now, Commander, you've had a nasty experience, I'm sure you're feeling just a bit confused right now," the doctor told her, as he tried to prevent her from sitting up. "Just give the painkiller a chance to work," he added as he continued his scans.

Archer stared at the engineer. "I don't need my head examined, Trip, or my eyes. I don't know what kind of joke you and T'Pol are trying to play, but it's not funny."

The puzzled look passed over Trip's face again at that statement. "I am not 'playing a joke,' Captain. I am Commander T'Pol." She glimpsed an all-too-familiar body just past the Captain, froze momentarily in shock, and then glanced down at herself. As she suspected, it was Commander Tucker's body. _No wonder the captain insists on calling me 'Trip,'_ she thought to herself.

"Sure, Trip. Cut the comedy, and just tell me what happened down on the planet."

"I am not joking, Captain. I am Commander T'Pol." She ignored Phlox's advice to lie still and had instead pushed herself up so that she was sitting on the biobed.

Phlox interrupted the discussion at this point, having completed his scans of both his patients, and was reviewing the information on the monitor with an increasingly intrigued expression on his face. "Captain, I believe that the commander is telling the truth."

Both the captain and the commander turned towards the doctor. Archer, for an explanation, as did T'Pol who, in spite of her current predicament, still found this situation rather illogical. Had it been someone else trying to convince her that they'd switched places with another, she likely would have said it was impossible.

"I am not certain how this has happened," Phlox continued, "but these neural patterns do more closely resemble those of Commander T'Pol rather than Commander Tucker. And this one," he pointed the readings now on the monitor above the unconscious first officer's body, "is definitely more human than Vulcan." He met the eyes of both the captain and then the ersatz engineer in turn. "It would appear that somehow they have exchanged bodies."

The captain shook his head. "Not you too, Phlox. April Fool's Day isn't for another two weeks."

"I assure you, Captain, that I am as baffled by how this is possible as you are. But my scans do not lie. This," he waved his hand at Trip's body, "_is_ Commander T'Pol."

A soft groan alerted all of them to the reawakening first officer, who spied Archer standing by his bed. "Cap'n, I just had the weirdest dream… I woke up in Sickbay and thought I was in T'Pol's body…" he trailed off as he heard a familiar voice to his left.

"Unfortunately, Mister Tucker," he looked over and started again at the sight of himself sitting on the next biobed, "it was not a dream. You are in my body, just as I am in yours."

"T'…T'Pol?" The captain watched as a mixture of expressions crossed his normally stoic science officer's face as she--_he_--apparently processed the information. "Is that really you?" At her nod, "How the hell did _this_ happen? And how do we _fix_ it?"

T'Pol calmly answered, "The last thing I recall is an energy surge shortly after you started examining the device's connections."

"Yeah, I remember that too. Sorta. But how'd we end up like this?" Trip had managed to sit up and now had her, no his--_aw hell, I'm gettin' confused--T'Pol's_ legs dangling over the edge of the bed, hoping one of the others could answer him.

Archer looked from one to the other, still not entirely certain that this wasn't some elaborate joke being played on him. "This really isn't some prank? You really have switched places?"

"I swear to God, Cap'n. This isn't exactly somethin' I'd think of if I was goin' to play a joke. Not t' mention that I doubt I could convince T'Pol to go along with it anyway…" Trip answered.

"I would not be a party to such a deception." T'Pol agreed.

Archer shook his head and turned to Phlox. "But they're both okay? In spite of…" he waved his hands towards them, "this?"

Phlox paused for a moment, rechecking his readings, "As far as I am able to determine from this readings, they are both perfectly fine. Just in the wrong bodies."

"So they can resume their duties?"

"Ah… Cap'n… I don't know that would be such a good idea…" Trip interrupted, blushing. "I mean, it'd be kind of confusin' for everyone…"

Archer considered what Trip said, "I could just explain to the crew what happened. I'm sure that everyone would understand." Trip and T'Pol darted unhappy glances at each other, neither thrilled with the prospect of the entire crew knowing what had happened to them.

"We have another problem, Captain." T'Pol spoke up. "Neither of the two races who claim this planet are expecting a human to do the mediating. They specifically wanted a Vulcan."

"Well, Trip can handle that. And you can help him out whenever he's in a jam." Archer pointed out.

T'Pol paused, framing her words carefully. "I believe, Captain, that you are not taking this seriously enough. Neither of these races knows anything about humans, but they are willing to let the Vulcans aid in the resolution of their conflict over the planet below. One wrong move could be disastrous. They specifically requested only Vulcans to act as mediators, therefore I could not be in the same room as Commander Tucker and their ambassadors, and should he continually make calls or leave the room to discuss the matter with me, then it would be seen as a sign of weakness on our part."

"Can't we explain to them that you're sick and it'll take a few days until another Vulcan ship can get here?" Archer asked.

"I believe that would be an acceptable compromise, Captain. However, should High Command send a ship here with a mediator in my place, you may be called upon to deceive them as well in regards to my… condition if we do not find a solution before they arrive. If they were to examine Commander Tucker in my body, and he were to… behave as he normally does… they may believe that I am suffering from a mental illness of some sort and am in serious need of psychiatric help, which they would insist could only be provided by a Vulcan healer, and likely would attempt to remove me, or should I say, Commander Tucker, from this vessel." Archer started to interrupt. "Before you say it, Captain, they will not believe that we have switched places. I am… forced… to accept that it is possible since I am directly affected by this situation. However, if it had been someone else in my place, I also would find it difficult to believe such a wild tale."

"Hey!" Trip protested, having worked out that he'd been insulted. "There's nothing wrong with how _I_ act!"

T'Pol raised an eyebrow at Trip again. "Would you characterize your normal behavior patterns as normal for a Vulcan, let alone a Vulcan female, Commander?"

"She's got you there, Trip." Archer cut in before the two of them could go at each other. "I think it's safe to say that we'll definitely need a believable explanation for both the ambassadors and the Vulcans, then. How about it, Doctor? Think you can come up with something to satisfy them all until we get this mess straightened out?"

Phlox considered for a moment, before giving them a small grin. "It will take some research, but I believe that I can come up with something suitable should the need arise, Captain."

"Great, that's settled." Archer smiled. "Now, I want you two to get busy working on a way to get yourselves back to normal."

"Captain," Phlox broke in, "for now, I think it would be best if both of them were to remain on the ship. I'd like to have both of them come in for some more tests in the morning, to make certain that there isn't any adverse effects to this… condition."

Trip glared at the doctor. "I'd call _this_ an adverse effect," he muttered to himself.

"Did you say something, Trip?" Archer asked.

"No, sir."

"And it would be more convincing if Commander T'Pol, er, that is, Tucker, er, well, you know who I mean, is not seen on the planet, should it be necessary to convince the aliens that T'Pol is sick."

Trip folded his arms across his chest. Or tried to, at any rate. He couldn't find a comfortable position after several attempts, and decided to grip the edge of the biobed instead. "Doctor, I don't know how badly that device was damaged, but I'm guessing that it is. At the very least, they're going to need me down there to get some idea of how it works. I can't do that from up here."

"Relax, Commander. It's only for a day or two. I'm sure you'll be fine. And Commander T'Pol is quite capable of determining what happened and providing you with information for you to process while we make a convincing case for whatever disease I come up with that has you too sick to act as a mediator for the next few days." Phlox replied.

"Trip, you've got some highly capable people in your department. Surely someone else can help T'Pol here figure out the machine…" Archer offered.

T'Pol spoke up, "I do not think that would be wise, Captain. Neither the commander nor I care to have everyone knowing what happened to us, and I doubt that I could successfully mimic the Commander's mannerisms for a prolonged period of time in front of one of the members of his engineering team. And while I am fully capable of identifying and repairing damaged sections to our systems, should one of his more creative solutions be necessary to get the device operating again…"

Archer looked between them. "It would be a lot easier if we just explained to the crew what happened." Both officers gave him a sick look.

"Cap'n," Trip answered, "you're not the one who's going to be the butt of the jokes. And this is difficult enough to deal with, without havin' my crew sniggerin' behind my back and if the rumor mill had us practically engaged just 'cause T'Pol was helpin' me sleep when we were in the Expanse, what do you think it'll do with news like this?"

Seeing the almost pleading look in both officers' eyes, Archer backed down. "Okay, okay, you win, Trip, T'Pol. I won't tell the crew, at least not for now. But the senior officers will need to know. Have your seconds run your departments for the next few days until we get this sorted out. I'll have Hoshi and Malcolm keep up the research on the device, and Tr--T'Pol, I mean, can go down to the planet and help them out. But you're going to be stuck up here, at least until we convince the Ge'kkr and M'lesk ambassadors that you're sick and can't possibly mediate, Trip."

Sighing, Trip nodded. "Thanks, Cap'n."

Nodding, Archer clapped a hand on the shoulder of his friend. "We'll get it straightened out, Trip. Don't worry," as he left.

Trip blinked as a swarm of sensations seemed to pass into him from where the Captain's hand brushed lightly against the bare skin of his--_T'Pol's_, he corrected himself mentally--neck. _Whoa. No wonder Vulcans don't like to be touched if that's what happens every time._ He frowned to himself. _I must've drove T'Pol crazy when she was doin' neuropressure on me…_

"Don't forget, I want both of you to get some rest tonight, and be sure and call me if you notice any unusual side effects. And I expect to see both of you in the morning." Phlox reminded them once more as the two of them stood to leave sickbay.

"Of course, Doctor." T'Pol agreed as Trip answered at the same time, "Sure, Doc."

The two glanced at each other and in unspoken agreement, left sickbay together, heading towards T'Pol's quarters in silence.

T'Pol reached out and tapped in the entry code for her quarters as Trip stepped aside to allow her to enter first. She sank down onto the small couch, while Trip paced the room. "What are we gonna do, T'Pol? I mean, what if someone sees us like this?"

"We could always allow the captain to tell the crew what has occurred."

"No, no, no! It was bad enough when everyone was talking about me behind my back when I was pregnant!" Trip stated, ignoring the fact that it was his own paranoia, and not any knowledge by the crew about his condition, that had caused him to think that in the first place. "Or when they were talkin' about us in the Expanse. This would be worse. Much, much worse. Malcolm will _never_ let me live this down…"

"Commander, please, sit down. Becoming agitated will do neither of us any good." Trip opened his mouth to reply, but then shut it and sat sullenly down. "It has happened, we must simply proceed with our normal routines, as best we can."

"How, T'Pol? It's goin' to look a little suspicious if you're always sitting at the science station while I'm down in Engineering, looking like this." He fidgeted nervously on the chair, trying to figure out where to place his hands so that they would not be somewhere they weren't supposed to be.

"Relax, Commander. I think that I should teach you the basics in regards to meditation."

Trip blinked. "Meditation? What would I need that for?"

"You are currently in my body. A body, which I might add, that is considerably stronger than your original one and you could inadvertently do something that you--and I, should we manage to fix this situation--would later have cause to regret if you do not keep your emotions under control."

"Oh." Trip said. He hadn't thought of that. "Well, yeah, I can sort of see your point."

"Also my body is not used to allowing its emotions have free reign. It may cause problems later if you continually express them."

Trip sighed. "Okay, okay, you win. I'll learn meditation, or try to, at any rate. Can't promise that I'll be able to sit still for it too long, though."

"Also, I would point out that my body cannot process animal fats, and therefore, you should not attempt to eat one of your normal meals while in it. Not unless you want to end up in sickbay, that is."

He grimaced. "So what, I gotta eat plomeek soup and salad and the like?"

"That is correct."

"That's boring."

"It fulfills my daily nutritional requirement." T'Pol pointed out.

"Maybe so, but it's still bland and boring." T'Pol simply raised an eyebrow at him. "Would you quit doin' that!"

She tilted her head slightly at him in confusion. "Doing what?"

He pointed at her. "That! Raising my eyebrow like that! I don't _do_ that!"

"It would seem that we both have things to assimilate quickly if we are to appear to be the other at least for the next few days, until this situation is resolved."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Trip demanded.

"Merely that if you wish to keep any other crewmembers, besides the senior officers, from realizing that anything has occurred to us, that you will need to act more like me in those situations where you encounter someone who does not know the details of our switch. Just as I will have to endeavor to act more emotional than usual…" T'Pol explained. "And will likewise have to force myself to eat meat to complete the illusion, should it be necessary." She shuddered at that thought. "Then there is the matter of waste elimination."

"Say what?" Trip blinked at the apparent non sequitur.

T'Pol gave him a look. "When it becomes necessary to use the facilities, a practical demonstration may be necessary in order for me to accomplish that task."

Trip blushed a deep olive green. "_You_ want _me_ to show you how to…" He squeezed his eyes shut, and rubbed his fingers across his temples. "Oh God… please kill me now."

"While I am familiar with the basic process and with that portion of your anatomy from our encounters both in the Expanse and later on, after we acknowledged our bond, I have not seen precisely how the mechanics is accomplished. But if you would prefer, I will ask Captain Archer to demonstrate the technique for me…"

Mortified, Trip shook his head and buried it in his hands. Voice muffled, she thought she heard, "I'll do it, I'll do it. Whatever you do, _don't ask Jon about that…_"

A bemused twinkle glimmered in T'Pol's blue eyes at the engineer's reaction to her suggestion. Schooling her face into a semblance of her normal expression before he could spot it, or at least as close as she could get it in this body, she asked not-so-innocently, "Do you foresee any similar problems, Commander?"

Pulling his head from his hands, Trip gave her a nasty look. "No, I think I can manage, thanks." He paused for a moment, then added as an afterthought, "You know, it's going to seem pretty odd to the rest of the crew if I go back to my quarters to sleep lookin' like this, and you stay here, lookin' like that…"

T'Pol drew her brow together as she considered that. "You have a point. Perhaps, for the time being, we should switch our quarters, if we intend to go through with this deception."

"Yeah," Trip agreed, eyes roaming around her room, "'cause I'm pretty sure that everything I've got to wear in my room is too big for your body, well, not unless you left somethin' behind the last time. And somehow, I doubt that these catsuits of yours will fit that body of mine all too well…" T'Pol inclined her head in agreement. "Though there was something I was wondering about…"

"What is it?"

"Well, it sounds kind of crazy… maybe not crazy, but strange at any rate. When the Cap'n touched me earlier, I could've sworn… well, it almost felt like I had a sense of what he was thinking and feeling right then."

She sighed. She noted to herself that she seemed to be doing that a lot recently and put it down to being in Trip's body. "You're well aware, Trip, that Vulcans are touch telepaths."

"Yeah, but I'm not a Vulcan."

"For the moment you are." T'Pol thought about it. "And if you are going to remain in my body for several days, then perhaps it would be prudent to attempt to teach you the most basic shielding principles."

Trip pondered what she was offering. "So, wait, you're saying that I can read people's minds now?" A small grin formed on his face. T'Pol frowned mentally as she agreed with Trip's earlier assessment--_it _was _most disconcerting to see such an expression on her face, just as seeing her raising his eyebrow had no doubt been for him_. "This has possibilities…"

"Trip… you cannot read minds. At most you can get a general impression of thoughts or feelings, unless they are very strong, when someone is in contact with you. So whatever you are contemplating, forget it…" T'Pol told him.

"Spoilsport." He pouted a moment, then another thought struck him. "What about between us? I mean, we _are_ bonded, even if I never seem to notice it too much 'cept the occasional daydream in that white room of yours or the odd sensation every once in awhile… but you never told me just exactly what this bond is like for you or how strong it is."

Reluctantly, T'Pol acknowledged that he was correct. "It is somewhat stronger for me. Likely because I am a touch telepath and therefore am predisposed towards mental contact. But I will endeavor to keep control over my mind so you will not be constantly troubled by impressions from the bond, since it takes time to successfully learn to filter out such things, and you are not used to the strength of our connection."

"You don't have to go to any trouble, T'Pol. I mean, I've dealt with emotions all my life. I doubt having to deal with yours on top of mine can be that much more difficult."

"I do not think that would be wise. You are unused to being in my body, and therefore have no idea what it may be like, trying to deal with two different sets of emotions at once, plus any that you may pick up inadvertently from the crew."

"I still don't think it's that big of a deal, T'Pol. But if you want to do that, then go ahead. Just remember, you're going to have to be a bit more outgoing than you normally are, if you're going to be me. That also means you're goin' to have to not be so logical all the time. Try and be spontaneous."

She gave him a frown as she crossed her arms. "I am perfectly capable of being spontaneous, Trip."

"Kissin' me in the corridor to get me to stay doesn't count, darlin'. You've got to be a lot more open with the other crewmembers. Humans talk about all those little things that Vulcans consider private all the time."

"I am beginning to believe that the captain was correct and we should simply inform the crew what happened to us." The twinkle returned to her eye as she saw his horrified expression. "I believe now is an opportune time for that demonstration, Commander."

"Huh?" He asked. Then blushed again. "Are you sure? Can't you, you know, just hold it?"

Arching his eyebrow, T'Pol responded, "I do not believe that would serve any useful purpose. Since we are both here, and it is a necessary function… but if you have changed your mind again, then I can always ask Captain Archer for help."

"No, no, I'll do it… just don't ever--_ever_--mention this to anyone…" he told her as they headed for her bathroom. "Because I'm going to deny everything."

Malcolm wearily headed for his quarters after returning from the planet. He hadn't liked staying down there, not after the two commanders had been discovered unconscious in that room of the temple or whatever it was. But someone had to try and discover what happened, so he'd sent them back with one of Trip's engineers and one of his own men, along with Ensign Malusky, the beta-shift helmsman who had flown the shuttle pod to the surface. _I knew I should have bloody well assigned a squad of men to watch over Commander Tucker. How he can possibly get into trouble in a deserted building on a world whose natives have been extinct for who knows how long is beyond me._ He sighed.

Then, a few hours after the commanders had been safely returned to Enterprise, there had been that exceedingly odd order from the captain not to touch the device in any way, but to find out as much as possible about how it worked. As if either he or Hoshi could do that without touching it. Never mind that they'd been examining it, including touching it, for nearly three hours before that order came down. Hoshi still had no idea what the language on the control panel was, other than it was nothing like the writing on the wall panels between the various faded frescoes that decorated the room.

And when they'd returned to Enterprise for the night, they'd been shooed first to decon and then subject to a thorough examination by Phlox, who wouldn't say why he was concerned. That had only added to the mystery as far as Malcolm was concerned. Especially since neither of the commanders was still in sickbay, so obviously whatever it was, it hadn't been serious enough that Phlox had insisted they stay within his sight. And when he'd asked, Phlox had told him that they'd been sent to their quarters to rest.

Almost to his quarters, Malcolm abruptly decided that perhaps he might pay a call on Commander Tucker. After all, he did have this PADD full of scans that he and Hoshi had collected of the device and the language, and if he knew the engineer, he was sure that Trip was doing anything but resting... Bypassing his own quarters, he turned down the next corridor and headed for the chief engineer's cabin instead.

Hitting the announce chime for Trip's quarters, Malcolm stood there, waiting for the door to open. Finally, after several seconds, the door did open and Trip stood there, wearing an old t-shirt and shorts, eying the security officer hesitantly. "Lieutenant Reed."

"Commander, I thought perhaps you might be interested in the scans we took of that machine after your unfortunate accident earlier today." Malcolm held out the PADD full of data towards Trip, who glanced at it briefly.

"Thank you, Lieutenant, I will review it." Trip replied, taking the PADD, and moved to shut the door.

Malcolm frowned, this wasn't like Trip at all. "Hang on, sir. Is everything okay? I mean, obviously you're not sick or seriously injured, else Phlox wouldn't let you escape his tender mercies, so why didn't the captain let you at least come back to the planet and maybe give us a little help trying to figure out what exactly you did to end up unconscious in the first place?"

"The doctor ordered Commander Tu--T'Pol and myself to rest, Lieutenant. So I was sleeping."

_Trip? Actually following the doctor's orders? No sneaking down to Engineering, no reading engineering journals half the night, but actually _sleeping Malcolm couldn't believe his ears. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you then, sir." He paused briefly. "If you don't mind me asking, sir, what _exactly_ did happen to you? Doctor Phlox was asking some rather odd questions of Hoshi and myself when he examined us a little while ago…"

"The captain will be discussing it in the senior staff meeting tomorrow, Lieutenant." T'Pol answered, then attempted to imitate Trip's normal speech pattern to make him more at ease. "Really, Malcolm, I'm fine. I jus' want to get some sleep." She forced herself to give him a weak smile, which to Malcolm's eyes looked like someone had stuck a phase pistol to the Commander's back and told him that he had to act as though there was nothing wrong.

"If you say so, Commander." Malcolm still was giving him the once over, not buying the act at all, though what exactly was wrong he couldn't say for sure. "Good night, sir."

The door slid shut, leaving one puzzled, tired armory officer standing outside. Turning, Malcolm decided to grab a bite to eat first, then take a shower and go to bed. _Maybe Trip's odd behavior might make more sense then…_ he thought to himself.

The mess hall was just down the hall from Trip's quarters, and when Malcolm entered, it was mid-shift, so it was nearly deserted. Finding to his surprise two untouched pieces of pineapple upside down cake in the case, he grabbed one of them and a glass of tomato juice, and headed to his usual table. He was staring out the window, pondering what exactly might be going on with the commander as he slowly ate his cake, when he felt a presence close by. Looking up, Malcolm was surprised to see that Commander T'Pol was making her way towards his table, carrying what appeared to be the other piece of cake and a glass of milk, and then sat down next to Malcolm, as if she always did so. Nor did she seem to care when she brushed his arm by accident when she reached for her milk, other than to blink and give him an odd look for a second. _And since when does she drink milk, for that matter?_ he wondered to himself.

"Good evening, commander," he said politely.

"Evenin', Malcolm," she answered before shoving a forkful of cake into her mouth, much to Lieutenant Reed's surprise. He'd never heard her address him by anything other than Lieutenant or Mister Reed the entire time they'd been on Enterprise. _And was that a trace of an accent?_ He thought about it for a moment, then decided he must have heard wrong. _Though she is acting kind of strange…_

His own forkful of cake paused in midair as he pondered what was going on with her. "Are you…" he tentatively started, unsure if he should ask, then pressed on as he watched her devour the cake as if she had been eating it all her life. "Are you feeling all right, Commander?"

T'Pol looked up at Malcolm with a mouth stuffed full of cake. Swallowing, she studied him for a moment. "I'm fine, Mal. How about you?" Then Malcolm could swear that he saw the slightest trace of grin cross her face before it smoothed back to its normal appearance.

_First Trip, now Commander T'Pol. Something _had_ to have happened to them down there, neither one is acting much like themselves._ Still feeling as if he'd was in the one of those old programs that Commander Tucker liked so well, Malcolm answered. "Fine. I feel fine. Are you sure that you don't need the doctor? Because, if you'll forgive me, you're not acting much like yourself, Commander." _Perhaps they were possessed by aliens?_ _That wouldn't necessarily have shown up on Phlox's scans, depending on how well they can hide it. Or maybe… maybe they're not Trip and T'Pol at all, maybe they've been replaced by alien disguised as them or clones or something…._ Malcolm groaned mentally. _Now you're starting to _sound _like one of those old movies of Commander Tucker's, what was it called? Oh yes, _Invasion of the Body Snatchers…

T'Pol had watched him impassively, still eating her cake, as the various thoughts sped across his mind. "The doctor said I was fine, all I needed was some rest. 'Cept I hadn't had much to eat all day, so I thought I'd get a snack before I hit the hay." Finishing her cake, and downing the last of the milk, she continued, "And now I'm done, so I'm goin' to turn in. See ya tomorrow, Malcolm."

"Commander." Malcolm watched as the commander stood and sashayed across the deck to put her dirty dishes away before heading for the door, still thoroughly confused. _Though she has still got a very nice bum,_ he admitted to himself, even if he'd never tell it to her. Mostly because he was sure Trip would have a thing or two to say about it, for all that he denied any attraction to her.

Pausing at the door, T'Pol looked back and gave him a raised eyebrow, as if she was completely aware of his ogling her bum, before leaving. Lieutenant Reed sat there for some time thinking about his encounters with the two commanders tonight. Obviously the captain had an inkling what was going on, and Phlox as well, and neither seemed to think it was an immediate threat to the rest of the crew, but he was the head of security and it was his job to worry about such things. _Perhaps I ought to keep a closer eye on both of them, just to be on the safe side, _he decided before heading for his quarters himself.

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

**To Walk a Mile…  
**By Jedikatie

Disclaimer, summary, etc. at the beginning of part 1.

Author's note: I'd like to apologize for the length of time for this bit to come out. Basically, real life got in the way of writing this--between work, both of my parents ending up having surgery within two months of each other, and assorted other things going on. So this portion was shorter than I originally intended it to be, but I wanted to post something to show that I hadn't forgotten this story. But now that work at one of my jobs has started to slow down for the fall/winter, hopefully I'll have more time to work on this.

Author's note 2: I'd like to thank Rigil Kent for the suggestion for the beginning scene. Hopefully he approves of how it came out… and to thank boushh for being my beta on this part.

* * *

**Day 2, morning**

T'Pol, after spending nearly an hour trying to meditate after waking up in hopes that it would help her cope somewhat with the odd situation she now found herself in, performed her morning ablutions. She was at somewhat of a loss when it came to shaving Trip's face. She'd never had to worry about such things before in her own body, and she wished she had thought to ask the commander exactly how he managed to do so without cutting himself the way she had done several times. She stared at the face in the mirror, as she dabbed the latest cut before putting one of the small bandages Trip apparently kept in his bathroom over it. She'd done the best she could, but even she could see that she had evidently missed a few spots, though she thought that no one would notice unless they looked fairly closely… she hoped.

Shaking her head, _his head_, she corrected herself mentally, she decided that she was as presentable as she could conceivably make "Trip" look, and left his quarters for the mess hall. It was still early enough that most of those who were due to go on shift were not yet filling the room, and she hoped that she might be able to keep interaction with those few who were there to a minimum. To that end, she brought along the PADD of information collected the day before by Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Sato and planned to review it while eating, hoping to further discourage anyone who might venture to sit with the normally gregarious engineer.

Picking up a tray, once she arrived, she hesitated, looking over the breakfast choices being offered. While she had meant it when she told the commander last night that they should attempt to emulate the other's behavior to the best of their abilities, if they wished to keep this from the crew at large, she still felt sick to her stomach looking at the bacon and sausage. A lifetime of vegetarianism wasn't going to be easily put aside, not even for the hopefully short period of time she was stuck in this body.

Making a decision, she reached out and took a couple of oranges, and then paused by her favorite, plomeek soup. Deciding that she could safely say that "T'Pol" had convinced "Trip" to try it, should anyone ask, she likewise took a bowlful of it, then got a cup of tea from the dispenser. Trip had been trying to drink less coffee of late, so no one would think that, at least, was odd. Once she had her meal, she surveyed the room and then chose a table in the far corner, away from the handful who were in the mess, and sat down to her meal.

Absorbed in reviewing the data on the PADD, she was startled when a tray slid onto her table. Looking up, expecting it to be Trip, since he was the only one who regularly dined with her, she saw that it wasn't the commander, but instead Lieutenant Reed who was just taking the seat next to her. Outwardly she presented a calm face, even tried to smile a bit so he hopefully would not suspect anything.

"Good morning, Commander," Malcolm greeted her. "Did you sleep well?"

"Fine, thank you." She answered. T'Pol swallowed more of the plomeek soup, frantically hoping that she could pull off this deception on the man who had been Trip's co-conspirator in some of his wilder adventures since Enterprise left Earth several years before.

Malcolm, meanwhile, was eying her breakfast. He bent down and sniffed her bowl, much to T'Pol's surprise, and then glanced up at her with a half smirk on his face. "Plomeek soup, sir?" He leaned in towards her, lowering his voice. "Has T'Pol been at you again about watching what you eat? I can't imagine that you'd voluntarily eat this stuff otherwise. It's pretty bland from what I hear."

T'Pol blinked. _Did Commander Tucker routinely discuss their relationship with the lieutenant? He seemed to know that they were together…_ Cautiously she answered, "Yes, T'Pol suggested I try it. After all," she hesitated a fraction of a second, "Malcolm, she pointed out that I cannot say I do not like it if I have not even tried it." _There, that sounded plausible._ "So I agreed at least to try it once. And actually, I do like the taste of it"

Malcolm, though, merely nodded and gave her a knowing look. "Uh huh. And you said that you weren't interested in her. Yet you're letting her pick your meals for you. Sounds like you're whipped."

"Whipped?" T'Pol asked, uncertain of the context.

"Oh yes, totally whipped. In other words, my dear commander, you'll do whatever she tells you to do." Malcolm continued, grinning as he teased his friend.

"Commander T'Pol is my superior officer," she answered, "so naturally I would follow her orders."

Malcolm laughed. "Of course you'd follow her orders, sir. But this is your breakfast. I hardly think that she gives you orders about that. Or is there something you neglected to mention to me?"

T'Pol flushed, realizing her mistake. "My relationship with Commander T'Pol is purely professional, Lieutenant."

"Hmmmph. If you say so, sir." Malcolm took a few bites of his own breakfast, and T'Pol was hoping that maybe he would leave her be long enough for her to finish her own and escape. But the lieutenant continued on after taking a sip of his own cup of tea. "Speaking of Commander T'Pol, have you seen her since you left sickbay yesterday?"

T'Pol nodded , "I walked her to her quarters last night."

"Did she seem… I don't know, a bit off to you?" Taking in the look she was giving him, Malcolm hurriedly explained, "I saw her briefly last night when I was in here, in fact. She just sat down at my table and started eating as if she always did so. And I could swear that she actually grinned at me for a second."

"It does not seem likely." T'Pol answered. "Perhaps you were imagining things."

"No, I swear, I was wide awake. And when she left, she practically sashayed out of the room. I don't care what you say, Trip," Malcolm added, not noticing the darkening look on his friend's face, "I still say that she has an awfully nice bum." He took another bite of his eggs, swallowed and then finished. "And when she turned around and looked back at me just before she headed out the door, I could almost swear that she _knew_ I was admiring her bum." He shook his head, glancing up at Trip to see what his friend might think of the odd behavior of their first officer, and decided to lay his cards on the table. "I think maybe something happened to her down on the planet that the doctor's scans didn't catch."

T'Pol, meanwhile, was fighting off the urge to go strangle her bondmate and wondering what she was going to do about him since he had apparently decided, against her advice, to have some fun while in his new body at the lieutenant's expense. _Mister Tucker and I will most definitely be having words about this later_, she told herself. "Perhaps she was simply out of sorts after the accident. I'm sure that everything is fine."

"Yeah, what did happen to you two down there? I tried to ask the captain yesterday, but he refused to say anything other than Hoshi and I weren't to touch that control panel in any way and to get as much information as possible about what it might have been used for. It's almost as if he was afraid of that machine…"

"I'm not certain, Malcolm," she forced out his first name, knowing Trip's tendency for treating everyone like they were best friends. "My memory of the event is rather hazy. However, I think that all will be made clear at the staff meeting later this morning, after Phlox has checked us over again." Realizing that that was the perfect excuse to leave before making the lieutenant even more suspicious, should her own behavior seem odd to him, "If you will excuse me, I had best go to sickbay and let him check me over."

"You're willingly going to sickbay?" Malcolm gave Trip a mock shocked look as he teased his friend again. "I must mark this down in my calendar…"

T'Pol gave him another brief smile and then quickly turned to leave the security officer behind, and smacked her head on the low beam a short distance from the table. She'd forgotten that she wasn't her usual height.

"Commander! Are you okay?" Malcolm had jumped up and grabbed her arm, turning her around to look into her eyes. He touched her forehead, examining the cut and the bump on it, even as his other hand reached out for his napkin to apply pressure to the wound.

T'Pol noted, in an abstract way through the pain, that she didn't sense anything from the lieutenant when he touched her, and her initial recoil from his touch subsided a bit. Closing her eyes, she nodded and then realized that she shouldn't have done that. "Perhaps it is fortuitous that I was going to sickbay in any case."

"Do you want me to accompany you?" Malcolm asked, concerned.

"I believe, even though my head hurts, that I still remember the way to sickbay, lieutenant." Then remembering her manners, she added in her best Trip imitation, "But thank you. I'm fine. Honest, Malcolm. This is just a scratch." And she quickly left before Malcolm could say anything else.

* * *

The doors to Sickbay slid open as Trip stepped through, still trying to adjust the catsuit into a bit more comfortable position on him. _How on earth does she _wear _these things all the time?_ He wondered silently to himself. It'd taken him nearly 10 minutes of struggling with the skin tight outfit just to get it on. _And these boots! Seriously, who designed these things? _His feet were killing him just from where his toes were all smashed together in the pointed toe of the boots, and he'd only had them on for half an hour, and he didn't even want to think about how he'd twisted his ankle trying to walk in the 7cm tall heels. He'd felt as though he was about to fall face first, the heels were so high… He finally stopped messing with his clothes and looked up to see himself sitting on one of the biobeds with Phlox just finishing bandaging his head.

Blinking at the sight, he asked T'Pol, "What happened?"

"I neglected to take into account my additional height when I was leaving the mess hall this morning," she admitted, embarrassed. "I was in a hurry to leave and did not look, and…"

"Forgot to duck." Trip finished, examining the bandage on his face. "Doc, how bad is it?"

"Not to worry, Mr. Tucker, it's just a bump. There's no sign of a concussion."

Trip nodded, relieved. "Just to try to remember next time, T'Pol. I don't need even more of a reputation for ending up in sickbay just because you're running into beams by accident."

T'Pol gave Trip a muted version of her death glare. "_I_ wouldn't have come to sickbay for this in the first place, had the doctor not wanted us here for his additional scans. _I_ am perfectly capable of tolerating mild pain and taking care of my own minor injuries."

"I don't get injured that much."

"Your medical records would dispute such a statement, Commander." She pointed out. "You spend far more time in sickbay than any other member of the crew."

Phlox chortled briefly. "Yes, indeed, sometimes I wonder if I should simply dedicate my life to curing your many little injuries and ills, Commander. You always do seem to end up here." At the aggrieved look on Trip's face, he continued in a more serious vein. "If you would lie down on the bed, Commander, then I'll get your scan out of the way, and then we can take care of yours, Commander Tucker." T'Pol lay back on the scanner table. Pressing a few buttons, the table retracted into the tube and the machine began its scans.

"Why do we even need these scans, Doc, I mean, you said we were fine yesterday." Trip asked.

"I just want to make certain that is still the case, Mister Tucker." Phlox pointed out as he examined the readings he was getting from T'Pol. He frowned slightly as he spied a few areas of interest but said nothing more. After a few minutes, the table slid back out of the wall, and T'Pol got down from it. "Your turn, Mister Tucker." Trip reluctantly pulled himself up onto it and laid back. Phlox repeated the process and frowned some more as he noted several discrepancies in Trip's readings as well.

"Well, what's the verdict, Doc?" Trip asked after being released from the imaging chamber. "Are we going to live?" Phlox didn't answer straight away, which caused the other two to glance at each other worriedly. "You know, Phlox, that's a joke, to lighten the mood and all that? You're not helping…" Trip added.

Phlox finally looked up from his scans. "I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, Commander." He replied, giving him a small smile. "Certainly it won't kill you."

The two commanders exchanged another look, then T'Pol ventured, "_What_ won't kill us, Doctor?"

"I'm just detecting a few more discrepancies in your scans than I picked up yesterday. But really, I'll need more time to look them over to determine their exact effects. And I'd like both of you to report back here again tonight so I can run another set of scans on you."

"Aw, Phlox, isn't twice enough? I mean, we only switched bodies, Lord knows how, why do we have to keep doing these scans?" Trip griped.

"As I said, Commander, I've detected a few more changes than I did in yesterday's scans, and I'd like to make sure that it doesn't turn into a more serious problem. So both of you will be here at 2000 hours tonight, and I'll run the scans again." He straightened up. "And I believe that we all have a staff meeting to report to shortly, so if you would, Commanders," he made shooing motions towards the door, "I'd like to gather my notes for my report to the captain."

T'Pol, realizing that Trip was about to protest the additional tests again, answered quickly. "Certainly, Doctor. We'll see you shortly," and gave the commander a pointed look. Trip trailed along after her as she left sickbay, a decidedly unhappy look plastered on his face.

Phlox watched both of them leaving before turning back to his scans and a worried frown appeared on his face once more.

* * *

Hoshi sat at the table, quietly observing the behavior of the others around her. She'd already noticed that Malcolm seemed to be preoccupied, and suspected it had to do with their currently missing crew members and the captain from the looks he'd kept shooting at the door and the other man, pacing at the opposite end of the room. She knew that he and Trip were close friends, and wondered if the lieutenant was just concerned about him after the shock yesterday of finding the two of them unconscious with no visible injuries to cause it, and was waiting to see for himself that Trip was okay, in spite of Phlox's obvious belief that no harm was done.

Turning her head, she watched Travis for a few moments across the table from her. He was looking over a PADD in front of him, and glancing at the data on its screen, she'd say that he was busy working on a proposal for an update to the navigational sensor array. He looked up briefly, and meeting her eyes, he gave her a boyish smile, apparently unaware or else ignoring the tension radiating from the remaining member of the crew in the room.

Shifting her attention to the captain, she watched as he paced the short distance by the view port, glancing at the door every time he completed once full circuit. Captain Archer was clearly concerned about something, though what it might be, other than possibly also concern over their two commanders' condition after the incident yesterday, she wasn't sure. Unless he was nervous about the upcoming negotiations that T'Pol was handling. Perhaps he was afraid that she couldn't perform her duties as expected, and that he might be called upon to take her place…

Before she could continue her musings, the door slid open , and revealed the two commanders. Oddly enough, it was T'Pol who paused at first as if about to let Trip enter, instead of the other way around. Hoshi spotted a very slight shake of the engineer's head, before T'Pol, with what looked like a grimace on her face, stepped through. She took Trip's usual seat without a second thought. For his part, the commander only paused a fraction of a second behind where T'Pol now sat before taking her usual seat. Hoshi could almost swear that a look of exasperation had crossed the commander's face, though, just for a second as he paused. _That's weird. Why would Trip be upset that she took his chair. It's not like it's the end of the world or something_. She eyed them thoughtfully for a moment. _I wonder if maybe they had another disagreement…_ Nah, they didn't act as if they were mad, just… uncomfortable… around each other, she decided a few moments later.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hoshi was aware of Malcolm also scrutinizing the two commanders' actions as if they'd committed a crime or something. Wondering why he'd be watching them so closely, she returned her attention to the captain, fully expecting him to start the meeting now that all of them were present. The meeting was supposed to be about the upcoming negotiations that T'Pol was supposed to mediate, the first time since the Coalition had been formed that the Vulcans had requested something from Starfleet, and neither SFC nor the Earth government was in the mood to deny them.

The captain and crew hadn't had any objections to the detour, either, especially once they learned that the two races who were arguing over the planet beneath them had no interest in its former inhabitants nor any objections to the crew taking a look around the old ruins. _It had felt good,_ Hoshi thought, _to just be explorers again, rather than worrying about someone shooting at them._

The captain, however, made no move to start the meeting, and other than a quick nod to acknowledge their presence, he turned away and faced the stars out the window as if afraid to say the wrong thing to them. _Very peculiar indeed. _Whatever it was that was going on, it was clear that the captain knew.

The door opened once more, and this time their chief medical officer walked in, carrying a small stack of PADDs over to the table, "Terribly sorry, captain, about being late. It took a bit longer than I expected to collect my notes…"

"That's alright, Phlox," the captain replied. "Since we're all here, perhaps you had best start with your… findings on the incident from yesterday."

Hoshi looked on with interest. She hadn't been able to figure out what exactly that device had done to the commanders, and then the captain had ordered her and Malcolm to not touch anything. Maybe whatever the doctor found out would explain why.

Phlox, who had been sorting through his pile of data pads, looked up at that. "Oh… yes." He picked up one of the PADDs, and then continued, "Well, while the commanders suffered no long term physical harm so far as I've been able to determine, apparently the device was able to somehow switch their personalities, or their minds, if you prefer, into the other's body." He brought up a couple of images of the scans he'd taken yesterday. "Now as you can see here…"

Hoshi sat back in her chair, stunned, staring at the two officers sitting just down the table from her. Equally shocked expressions were visible on the faces of both Malcolm and Travis, though Malcolm also seemed to be blushing, if she wasn't mistaken. _Wonder what _that's_ all about_. But she pushed Malcolm's odd reaction aside and focused her attention on the captain and the other two. The captain still wouldn't meet their eyes, and the other two wore identical expressions of stoic suffering through Phlox telling what had happened to them. Hoshi noted that T'Pol, or she supposed she should say, _Trip_, was slouching in his chair, looking as if he wanted to escape this meeting and go hide somewhere no one could find him. T'Pol, in his body, sat ramrod straight in the chair, a carefully blank expression on her face, but the eyes clearly reflected that she was just as unhappy about this situation as Trip was.

Malcolm shifted slightly next to her, drawing Hoshi's attention away from the commanders for a moment, as Phlox continued his explanation, oblivious to the inattention of his crewmates. _He's definitely blushing_, Hoshi noted. _And darting looks at Trip, I mean, _T'Pol_, as if he'd told him--_her_--something he shouldn't have._ Hoshi frowned slightly. She was aware that the lieutenant had a bit of an attraction towards the science officer, or at least a fondness for a particular portion of her anatomy. She'd caught him giving it glances on more than one occasion.

Travis, meanwhile, had been listening to Phlox's explanation with a growing sense of disbelief. "Excuse me, Doctor," he finally interrupted, "but you're saying that Commander Tucker and Commander T'Pol have somehow switched bodies? I mean, it sounds like a plot to one of those old movies that Commander Tucker likes to watch on movie night…"

"Nevertheless, Ensign, that _is_ what has occurred. My scans clearly show that they are currently in each other's bodies." Phlox beamed at the young man.

"But how do we get them back?" Travis asked.

"Good question, ensign. But I'm afraid that's something that is out of my area of expertise."

Archer finally spoke. "Yes, well, that's going to be up to Commander T'Pol, as well as you, Hoshi, and Lieutenant Reed to determine."

Malcolm gave him an odd look. "Wouldn't Commander Tucker be more qualified, sir, than I am to figure out the inner workings of this device?"

"Yes, well, with the negotiators from the two alien races here expecting a Vulcan to mediate their dispute, and Trip now in T'Pol's body, he can hardly be on the planet investigating the device."

Trip looked sharply at the captain at that. "I thought we agreed that it was a bad idea for me to try an' impersonate T'Pol in those talks."

Hoshi watched as the captain tried to placate his friend. "Of course we did, Trip, and I'm still going to try and get you out of that. But in any case, you still can't go down to the planet. Especially if Phlox has come up with some viable medical excuse for why you can't possibly handle the mediation for the time being."

Mollified somewhat, Trip relaxed into his chair again, still not looking too happy. Hoshi had the feeling that he'd prefer to be stuck on the planet with his hands in that machine, trying to decipher its secrets rather than stuck up here with nothing to do.

"Indeed, captain, I believe that, thanks to that last planet we charted last week, have come up with something that our friends might believe. As you well know, Vulcan is a desert planet, and its inhabitants are therefore not as tolerant of more humid climates as your own species, for example, Captain." Phlox paused as the captain nodded. "Well, Commander T'Pol did get pulled underwater by one of the local fauna, causing her to breathe in several lungful of the rather unpleasant swamp water." T'Pol grimaced at the memory of the acrid water's taste. "We simply state that the incident had a delayed effect on her, resulting in pneumonia."

"I cleared bioscan, however, Doctor." T'Pol pointed out.

"True. But if there was a persistent little bug that hid itself from our scans, then made itself known later on…"

She tipped Trip's head towards him in acknowledgement. "But would they not expect us to have the medical capability to treat such?"

"Perhaps, perhaps. But with it being an alien bug causing it, I could certainly 'treat the symptoms' but would have to work towards eradicating the little pest. And of course, I would have to put the good commander into quarantine to ensure it didn't spread to the rest of the crew, in case it decided to mutate and infect other species."

Trip frowned at that thought. "Quarantine? No one said anythin' about quarantine to me."

"It would only be for a few days, Commander."

"DAYS?! What the hell am I goin' to do in quarantine for several days?"

Archer winced. "Now, Trip, it's not that bad. And unless you really want to share what happened to you and T'Pol with everyone on the ship and half the quadrant, I'd keep your voice down." Trip subsided, grumbling to himself, shooting dark looks at T'Pol in his body and over at the doctor.

If Hoshi had any doubts about whether or not they'd actually switched, that little outburst had put them to rest. Grinning to herself, she could hardly wait to tease Trip.

Archer continued after a moment of making sure that Trip wasn't going to interrupt again. "Of course, none of this will leave this room. The commanders would just as soon not have everyone know about their little… problem. Even if anyone would believe it."

That put a damper on Hoshi's plans, _though_, she thought after a moment, _the captain didn't say anything about keeping quiet about it after they're back to normal._ Cheered by the thought that she would still be able to tease her superior officer, she'd just have to wait a bit, she settled back in her chair.

"I believe that we could arrange for the scans we take of the device, Commander," T'Pol told him, "to be transmitted to quarantine and you could work on them on this end."

"That's all well and good, T'Pol, but what are we going to do if you need my expertise down on the planet?"

"I believe that we should, how do you say it?, 'cross that bridge when we come to it.'"

Archer nodded. "Right. So T'Pol, Malcolm and Hoshi will work on figuring out the device from the planet. Phlox will make up our dear science officer to look deathly ill, so if the ambassadors wish to see for themselves the state she's in, Trip will at least look the part. And Trip will have to act the part as well. You think you can manage that, Trip?"

"I played hooky on occasion when I was a kid. I know how to act sick." Trip pointed out.

"Fine." Archer looked at his officers. "And I'll try and convince them and anyone else who asks that T'Pol is horribly sick and can't possibly fulfill the role she was sent here to do." He hesitated. "Are you two sure you wouldn't rather just come clean? I mean, if this ever gets out…"

"As I said before, Captain, the Vulcans would not believe such a thing was possible. They would undoubtedly label me, should I try and claim such even with Phlox's scans as proof, as being mentally unstable and would attempt to remove me from this vessel by force."

Malcolm looked shaken at that. "Bloody hell. They would have themselves a fight if they tried it, Commander."

"While I appreciate the sentiment, Lieutenant, it would be illogical for any of our crew to be injured, or those members of any ship that might try and do such a thing, who would be looking out for what they believed is my best interest."

Trip blinked. "Now waitasecond… you're saying you'd let them take me?"

"Not at all. Simply that it would be illogical to put up a fight." Trip gave a pretty good imitation of T'Pol's death glare right back at her.

"Okay, we'll worry about that later." Archer said, trying to stop their incipient argument before it began. "Let's go, people, and find a way to get our officers back to where they belong. Preferably without causing any interstellar incidents along the way…" He looked at the two officers on either side of him in turn, who were still glaring at each other, then sighed. "Dismissed."

To be continued...


End file.
